Change, avoidance, and supermarkets

A Facebook “Memory” popped up yesterday, too, and it included a photo I posted to Instagram (and so, Facebook), before writing a blog post about it. All of which made me think about change, avoidance—and supermarkets.

Four years later, that Countdown supermarket I stopped in is one of two in Hamilton that I go to routinely. I kind of alternate between that Countdown and the New World further down Te Rapa because they both have their own unique products, but these days they’re often out of stock on different things. And yet…

Both of those supermarkets are memory traps. As far as I can remember, I only went inside that Countdown with Nigel one time, but the last time I ever bought anything at the Kmart next door I was with Nigel (some winter scarves I still have, but that he only used one winter). I’ve stopped in there maybe a dozen times over the past four years, and always walked out with nothing because the shop had lots of empty shelves and they never had what their website claimed they had in stock.

The New World, on the hand, can be far more challenging. The first time we walked in there, Nigel said it was the nicest NZ supermarket he’d ever been in, and I remember that—and sometimes “hear” him saying it—every single time I walk in. I stopped in there with family around a month after Nigel died, and the memory hit me like a massive punch to the gut. “This isn’t fun any more,” I said to myself that day.

The thing is, I could’ve chosen to avoid those places—there are plenty of supermarkets in Hamilton that Nigel and I never went to (one in particular hadn’t even been built while he was alive). But I don’t do that, and I never have, because it’d be pointless.

Triggers, some quite strong and challenging, are literally everywhere—and nowhere. Anything can trigger a memory, even something as banal as a song used in a TV commercial (especially at Christmas…). My own brain serves up memories seemingly out of nowhere and connected to nothing. They’re unavoidable, and trying to hide myself away from possible triggering places would accomplish absolutely nothing.

Four years ago yesterday, I popped into what’s now one of my local supermarkets, and I never gave it a second thought. I couldn’t possibly have ever guessed that everything would change and my life would be blown up less than one damn year later, let alone that three years after that me going to that store would be just a routine thing, though one wrapped up in strong memories.

I think that the first year or so that I lived in Hamilton, I went to that Countdown precisely because it wasn’t that New World. With all the turmoil and upheaval of Covid lockdowns, and the loss of Sunny and then Jake, I learned to be more in the present, and even to be stronger within myself. Nowadays, I go wherever I want/need to go. I don’t avoid anything or any place because of memories, and when they show up, I just let the memories flow over me. No matter what kind they are or how they make me feel or react, they’re a part of me because Nigel was—is—a part of me.

So much has changed over the four years since I originally posted about stopping in that particular Countdown, and that includes me. After Nigel died, people often told me how strong I was, and the truth is, I always laughed when I read that. “You don’t see me when I’m not!” I thought to myself. No matter whose perspective was correct then, I’ve definitely learned how to be strong since. Now, I can absolutely go to any supermarket I want to, or any other place, and I know I’ll be okay—maybe even a bit better than that.

Funny how a Facebook “Memory” can bring such clarity. Still, I’ll take it wherever I find it. Even from supermarkets.